Ol'averde be Haar Mav [Popsicles]

[Y'roth Helghast]

===== 23:36 =====

"Sir, only some of them are heading to the lift. Not enough of them."

"Lieutenant, quit underestimating them. This is a matter of attrition. Lure them in, and whittle them down."

"Roger, Sir."

===== 23:35 =====

"What are those bumbling morons doing!?!?"

The Supervisor hissed, slamming her metal fist against the console, leaving a dent. The overlay of the compound showed that sub level 1 had gone red. No living inhabitants. Hundreds of prisoners under her ward gone. She growled and snarled, grinding her teeth as she stepped to the other console where there the network remained unavailable.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

===== 23:30 =====

Aang sat astride Kotir on top of the mountain. Laara stood off to the side, on the stump of the comms array they had blown up a half hour previously. The storm was raging around them, but they were three white figures in a swirl of white, and they were waiting.

"Contacts," Laara said. "Coming up from the southeast." A pause. "It's as cold your father's tits out here."

"K'atini," scolded Aang, but he grinned inside his helmet, turning the bes'uliik to face the direction she'd indicated as his HUD confirmed. Four figures laboring up the mountain in the storm, one carrying a large pack, no doubt with supplies to fix the antennae. A strong gust of wind caused the quartet to hunker down for a moment or be blown off the side of the mountain. "Wait for them to get closer."

"Elek."

===== 23:29 =====

After walking into the turbolift and leaving Buruk to keep the doors open, Lilaena had ordered all security holocams destroyed on the ground level. A sealed room was opened (with explosives) to reveal the ventilation system for the lower levels - a system that was designed to be closed with limited access. She opened it like a can of namana slices with her lightsaber, and Jeng peered down it, a light on his helmet illuminating the dual shafts. "Intake and outtake," he said. "I suggest we take both."

"Agreed."

===== 23:25 =====

The turbolift doors opened on sublevel 1, five white armored Mandalorians came out in formation, covering all the angles while the basilisk Buruk conducted a thorough scan from the doorway. The entire level was destroyed, remains of cryopods and their former contents were scattered everywhere, like an immense toddler had grown tired of his toys and torn all the arms and legs from his figures and them stomped on them.

[Y'roth Helghast]

===== 23:21 =====

"Report."

"Sir, five on sub level 1. All visual feeds on the main level have been disabled."

"Five?"

"Scouts. They assume they have the operational time line, having determined no other way in or out for conventional forces."

"They have 21 soldiers. Speculate what they're doing with the other 16. They're not all just sitting on their thumbs and spinning."

"Roger, Sir."

"Sir, team's almost there."

"Sir, we've got movement in the vents."

"Sir-"

"I heard, Lieutenant. Activate the automated defenses and I want that status report on the comm array now."

===== 23:16 =====

The black storm troopers were deathly still in the blizzard all around them. They hunkered low, Sergeant Jhor scanning ahead of them. 20 meters to the comm array, no hostiles detected. Sergeant Jhor knew an ambush when he saw it. His comms had been switched to passive so even though he could hear the LT calling for his update, protocol required them to stay dark at least until contact had been made with the likely enemy element ahead of them. Corporal Ghandiem heaved the heavy blaster around to the front after scanning their right flank. Jhor thought he caught a glimpse of movement and he made two quick hand gestures. He hoped to hope that the hostiles only had two or three up here. He wanted as much of a number advantage as he could walking into the inevitable fire fight. Six on three were his kind of odds.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

===== 23:15 =====

Fifteen minutes crept by, and the troopers had made little progress up the mountain. In their black armor they could be more easily seen, but the storm still howled and made things difficult. If you didn't know where you were looking or what you were looking at it...

Aang didn't mind waiting. Things on Onderon had often happened quickly, after hours of hunting - or being hunted.

"Are they close enough?" Laara shifted slightly, her hands holding her blaster rifle firmly at the ready. The stormtroopers were beginning to struggle uphill again, there were six that he could pick out now with the help of his HUD identifying likely shapes in the snow.

Two of them moved faster than Aang expected, darting to the side, and another ran around the other way, splitting up and moving to flank the Mandalorians' position. "Now!" said Aang, and Laara started firing, her first bolts steaming through the snow as they tracked closer to the one who was trying to flank on his own.

Aang urged Kotir forward, and the great droid rumbled, mouth opening to reveal a laser cannon that shot at the three troopers who were surging up the middle toward them while his rider targeted the other two with his blaster rifle. Using a jet pack or darts of any kind was not an option in the weather, unless he wanted to get swept off the mountain completely.

===== 23:14 =====

On the mountain the battle had begun for control of the long distance comms, and De'Ville took Aang's message silently, her boots pressing on either side of the ventilation shaft as she slid down it. Sublevel 1 was cleared by the scouts, and they were heading down to 2 after four more and another droid joined them on 1. The thought of the dead prisoners who had been willfully sacrificed was raising her blood pressure, but the Empire had so casually wasted the entire level it could only mean that those who were held there meant barely anything to them. The lift indicated that there were at least 8 sublevels.

It was a long way down.

They were staggering out, in teams of two, and infiltrating them all at once. She slowed herself with the Force, and Jeng soon joined her, his jetpack running quietly until he turned it off and held himself in place with his arms and legs above her head. De'Ville ignited her lightsaber and carved a hole in the wall, jumping out and into Sublevel 8.

[Y'roth Helghast]

===== 23:14 =====

Sergeant Jhor dove into the snow as the trooper beside him took a fusillade to the chest, knocking the corpse back down the body. War droids. Great. The other trooper up beside him low crawled up towards their enemy. Jhor fired a steady burst of fire off and the other trooper began to suppress the area from where the contact had come from.

"Just watch for the array."

"Sarge, frak the array."

"Corp-!"

Corporal Ghandiem, the trooper that had taken the left flank by himself had made it to some cover behind some snow covered rocks and his heavy blaster was set. Bright, thick beams of energy scorched the position up ahead.

Jhor cursed, maintaining their steady rate of fire, hoping it was enough to make even the war droid take cover. The other two, if they were still maneuvering up, would need all the help they could get.

===== 23:04 =====

Captain Aveedes turned sharply, cursing under his breath as auto-turrets fired somewhere in the back of the sub level. The room was deathly quiet other than the blaster fire that persisted and then stopped suddenly somewhere back there in the darkness. The Captain made hand gestures to the forty something odd elite Stormtroopers that had been standing around idly waiting for the next phase of the defense plan. That plan had just advanced drastically.

"Sir, we have automatic defenses responding on all levels to a threat that appears to be-"

"Ventilation shafts, roger. Faster than expected.

"But Sir, that first team is on sub level 2."

Aveedes hoisted his rifle from the weapons rack. He turned to the comms specialist.

"Kill the codes. Maintain internal comms only."

The comms specialist beside him nodded, turning to the console, a red flashing banner playing across the screen as he continued past the casual fail safes. The Captain switched channels to broadcast to all internal channels, accepting the possible risk.

"This is Captain Aveedes to all Imperials in Haven, we have been compromised. If you aren't in the green zone, Empress forgive us."

===== 23:03 =====

Supervisor Llawl was deathly quiet, her heavy blaster held in front of her, waiting for whatever had just crawled out of the ventilation shaft to reveal itself around the corner where she waited. No automated turrets in her office where the invaders had decided to arrive on sub level 7. She relished the opportunity. It had been a long time since her last field operation. She'd had both arms back then, and her husband.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

===== 23:03 =====

SUB LEVEL 8
Lilaena brushed a gloved hand over the face of the cryopod in front of her, but the glass was fogged from the inside. Black and red tape across the front of the pod proclaimed that the individual inside was a FORCE ADEPT, EXTREMELY DANGEROUS, DO NOT ACCESS UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, with the Imperial seal of the Empress Tarkin. The cryopods filled the level in neat rows, all hooked into a main cyrogenic system through pipes and tubes on the ceiling, but monitored and maintained with their own control panels. The pods in front of her were modern, but further away she could see ones that seemed to use older tech.

Closer inspection revealed similar warning labels, but the seals were different. Some were the seal of Emperor Palpatine, but a few were the mark of his Executor Darth Vader, and they were older than the base itself, which could only have been here for twelve or so cycles. What could have caused them to lock these ones up, rather than simply kill them? A strange feeling in the pit of her stomach made her feel almost unbalanced. Were there Jedi in here, from the rise of the Empire? Order 66?

Or something else entirely?

"We thaw them all," she said to Jeng. "We need to find the main controls." He nodded, silent inside his helmet as he jogged down the rows of pods.

===== 23:02 =====

SUB LEVEL 7
Choruk and Obed found the room they'd dropped into was empty. It seemed to be some sort of sitting area, attached to another room by an archway. Obed approached the doorway, blaster at the ready, taking the high position while Choruk went low. They burst into the large office, and found it empty except for an imposing desk and a cryopod in the corner.

No wait -

"Movement!" yelled Obed, stitching the big wooden desk with blaster fire and activating his jetpack so he flew in the air toward it. Choruk's HUD screamed at him silently as a figure returned fire toward Obed, and dove to the right, finding cover behind an armchair and then scrambling to flank the enemy while Obed drew it's fire.

SUB LEVEL 6
Granoi and her partner were pinned down in the kitchens, and the old Mandalorian warrior grinned while she improvised an explosive from some of the old cooking oil she'd found. Tiktik, a younger woman, pulled down a large cabinet full of cans and used the power from her jetpack to help shove it against the doorway while cans rolled out all over the duracrete floors.

SUB-LEVEL 5
"They're retreating," said Teroch, ducking behind a cryopod in the huge storage area. "Are we that scary?"

"You are," replied Ciryc. "It's why you have no wife." He stood up, using the big control panel as cover while the dark armored stormtroopers seemed content to keep them pinned down. He put his hand on the controls and clicked over to their main comm channel. "Ready, Manda'lor."


SUB LEVEL 3
Buruk bounded out of the turbolift, landing directly on top of a hapless stormtrooper, crushing the man inside his armor with it's great weight. The droid's tail whipped out, blades spinning along it's length like a chainsaw, cutting down another trooper before any of the other Mando'ade made it out of the lift. Two had remained on sub level 2, hands on the control panels, while seven of them poured into sub level 3 and spread out, killing anything that stood in their way.

===== 23:01 =====

SUB LEVEL 4
"We've located the control panel. The level is empty except for pods."

SUB LEVEL 8
"Deactivate the pods on your levels," said Lilaena. "I have overridden the security controls for the system." A series of affirmations came over the comm from those who weren't too busy, and she pressed the final buttons. The low hum that had been invading their consciousness since they'd arrived in the lower levels whirred down into nothing. The silence was deafening.

All around her, the cyropods began to light up from within.


===== 23:00 =====

The emergency lights on sub levels 2 through 5 flashed yellow, orange, and then red. Ciryc looked up from the control panel on sub level 5 as the pods were warming and lighting up, and frowned. Teroch shouted over the comm, "SHIELDS!" and dove for him, his personal shield flashing on in a sparkle of blue energy and enveloping them both.

On sub level 3 the Mando'ade around Buruk crouched under the big droid as the far edges of the level blew first. They didn't all have shielding, but this close together there was some overlap. For those souls in the cryopods... there was no helping them anymore.

De'Ville screamed incoherently, rage filling her as she felt their deaths through the Force.


===== 23:00 =====

Aang got a good bead on the leader, or who he imagined was the leader, but in the storm blaster bolts seemed to be less than effective. Perhaps the driving snow was soaking up the energy of the bolts before they reached their targets. He dismounted from Kotir, running toward the Stormtroopers with his large blade in hand, and Laara followed his lead, heading in a zig-zag pattern to the single trooper who was still behind cover to the left.

The mountain shook under their feet as they charged.

[Ondraeya]

Coruscant, 4 ABY

Violet eyes fixed on the black robed figure seated behind the raised, ororo wood barrier, glaring down at her as did all others in the large chamber. It's stark grey walls and large Imperial banners hanging behind the judge and jury of this farce of a trial, all typical the government now ruling most of the known galaxy. "You understand that using the Force after the Jedi were all found guilty of treason against the emperor, is illegal," Inquisitor Tremayne stated, his steel-grey eye glared at her, his other covered by a metal plate in the shape of the empty eye socket. "Your cultic practices are all deemed by the Imperial government as heresy and are worthy of death. Does the condemned have any last words before sentence is given?"

So, now given a chance to speak after she's already gone from guilty to convicted. Interesting. "No words that would make any difference in your eyes beyond the fact that there's no such thing as justice under this ruling body. I also find it interesting that you convict me on the very thing that you used to find me," Ondraeya smiled. "Don't you?"

Straightening, Tremayne glanced between the other officials from COMPNOR gathered here, then back to the dark jedi. "I see that there's no redeeming qualities within you, so I'm compelled to commence with the ending of this trial. You, Ondraeya Li are hereby convicted of using illegal magicks to murder four Imperial officers and troopers. You then shall henceforth be remanded to custody of the Dungeoneers to carry out your execution." Slamming the gavel down on the unseen wooden block, the Inquisitor motioned for the large, armored guards to escort their prisoner from the chamber. As they walked, she followed the first dungeoneer into a back hallway, then felt the sting into her neck as the door closed, now out of sight of any witnesses. Soon, as she attempted to twist and defend herself, the world around her went black.....

===== 22:57 =====

A morass of dreams and blackness soon washed away as the short slumber that the Hapan enjoyed awoke the brunette with a start. Violet eyes opened, but her vision was foggy to say the least and complimented her strange, almost nauseated feeling. Leaning over, her muscles atrophied after the time in the pod, Ondraeya expelled all the building fluid in her body until her whole torso hurt. Splashing into the bottom of the metal container, being upright into a forty-five degree angle, she lay her head upon the cool metal siding and gathered her breath. Welcome to hell, she mused.

[Y'roth Helghast]

===== 22:59 =====

Sergeant Jhor caught sight of the charging opponent, marking him in the joint tactical HUD as he took a knee, continuing to fire. The trooper to his side reloaded a power pack and cycled through another round of sustained fire. Jhor holstered the rifle and drew his field blade as the charge came upon him, gripping the handle activated the power field and extended the blade to triple its initial length. He braced himself as the warrior swung his large blade downward.

Corporal Ghandiem cursed, quickly reloading his heavy blaster as the warrior approached him. Not soon enough was he aiming back down at the enemy position. It was not about aiming for the warriors themselves, but a steady Z-pattern, back and forth. With the rate of fire of the heavy blaster, it made up for the fire power of three troopers.

The two troopers on the right finally saw their opportunity on their flank and began to open fire at the large war droid in hopes that they might remove that advantage.

===== 22:59 =====

The rumbling meant only so many things and the holographic overlay that flitted in and out of existence suddenly became red from the top to two thirds down. From the darkness came a shriek of fury and Supervisor Llawl flew at the oncoming Mandolorian. She fired her blaster at the other warrior trying to flank her as a snap hiss filled the room and the red glow of her lightsaber met her oncoming attacker. Her cold fury, the loss of her life's work in the flash of stupidity by one overly loyal dog! These barbarians were just the thing she needed at this very moment to vent her immediate frustration.

===== 22:57 =====

The cryopod that Captain Aveedes took cover behind came to life, as did so many of the others. A bare few did not, those that either had faulty lights, lines, or unknowingly dead occupants. He risked not saying a word as he listened to something, a woman maybe, scream. A scream that felt like it reached into Aveedes very heart and gripped it, squeezing it. That sensation, that fear, it galvanized Aveedes, assuring him that what he had done had been right from the start.

"All forces on levels 6 through 8. Mass on the intruders, overwhelm them and re-secure the consoles. Cryopods are dethawing. Occupants will be initially weak. If any wake, kill any that attempt to escape their pods. Re-initiate thaw process if able once consoles are secure."

Aveedes had maybe 60 plus troopers on the entire sub level 8. There were over 200 pods and maybe 80% of those were currently dethawing. He was not entirely sure how long dethawing would take or what condition the occupants would be in, but he knew enough on the classified files of some of the prisoners to know that 60 plus troopers would not be enough. The lieutenants on sub levels 6 and 7 acknowledged. Sub level 6 had maybe 30 troopers total and sub level 7 had another 30. The Captain just hoped that the war droids were out of commission.

[Sherobah Angau]

SUB LEVEL 8

===== 22:56 =====

Chilled air rose from one of the crypod's broken seals like smoke as warmth crept into the uterine darkness.

A black oath, half-spoken, still burned on the tip of the occupant's tongue but the frozen air cut through the words and her thoughts. With an effort, she blinked, breaking the crystalline bonds of the frost that clung to her eyelashes. The melting ice ran down her cheeks and over blue lips as she gasped for breath, her first conscious breath in decades raking down her throat and twisting in her lungs.

Her body betrayed her. Limbs folding beneath her, she collapsed to her knees and avoided striking her head against the rising shell of the cryopod only thanks to some dim, transitory spark of recollection in her muscle memory. Though long-dormant and dulled, indistinct and reflex roused, beasts startled from their slumber.

She groped blindly at the opening of the pod, trembling fingers struggling to find purchase on the slick metal. All the while, her mind fumbled for something too. Familiar yet far away. The Force.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

===== 22:55 =====

SUB LEVEL 8
She stalked down the rows of pods, not too far from the control console where Jeng waited, anger building inside her even as her Mandalorians checked in. Four dead. Re'or, Feran, Grante, and Pan. Fearless warriors; her people. "Vod!" she called through the comms, "Converge on the remaining yamika, protect the yustarud." Affirmations filled her ears, and she stopped in front of a thawing pod, waiting for it to open.

The cryostasis pod beside it remained dark, the occupant dead. Lilaena leaned closer to the living one, and then black armored stormtroopers rounded the row, opening fire without discrimination. She ducked behind the pod and a heavy blaster took out it's regulator. If the cryopod was not opened in time, the occupant would suffocate. There were hundreds of pods, and as she stretched her senses she could feel the stormtroopers closing in, dozens of enemies, and only she and Jeng here to fight them.

She'd faced worse odds. De'Ville's lips peeled back in a feral grin, snarling as she rolled out from behind the pod, her lightsaber igniting and deflecting the blaster fire back into the troopers as she charged straight toward them.


===== 22:53 =====

SUB LEVEL 3
Buruk was damaged, but not critically, the combined strength of the verda shields had protected the great droid. Vail, a female warrior in her thirties, had not been so fortunate, suffering burns on her right arm and side, and Re'or had been crushed by falling duracrete near the control console. The cryopods were a complete loss.

Hel left Vail with Buruk, helping the verde onto the basilisk's back. She clicked her tongue at the others. "You heard Manda'lor. We go below." She had four warriors with her, and they would descend to 4, picking up Kabur, then 5 to gather Teroch and Ciryc. But first...

The turbolift opened, and Jariler looked out at the singed Mando'ade, it's big metal head swinging from side to side as it scanned the exterior. Hel smiled inside her helmet, leaping astride her basilisk droid and fitting her boots into the stirrups. "Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur!"* she shouted.

"Oya!" came the reply, resounding inside the 'lift as they entered.

===== 23:52 =====

SUB LEVEL 7
The lightsaber had come from nowhere. Obed had managed to get his iron gauntlet up to intercept the red blade, the only piece of so-called Mandalorian iron that he had in his armor. They had not been able to create more in all the generations they had lived on Onderon, but reforging it had been done, over and over. The war droids compromised the majority of their remaining stock, but nearly every warrior who owned an entire suit of armor had at least one gauntlet of the stuff as a point of pride.

And, Obed considered as his blaster fire went wild and he tumbled to the ground in a roll behind the desk, apparently it was saving his life. Choruk was scrambling around, distracting the jetii by shooting at her even if the shots were imprecise. The woman had enough skill that she was able to deflect the bolts, which would get dicey fast in this small space.

Obed dropped his blaster rifle, pulling his smaller weapon and clicking the firing controls over to stun. Manda'lor had told them that lightsabers could not block the wider spread energy of the stun blast, but also stun would not necessarily work as well on Force users. He shot the woman from close range as she was half turned toward Choruk.


*Today is a good day for someone else to die!

[Ondraeya]

===== 22:53 =====

As she tried her best to gather herself, the dark jedi knew one thing as her ringing ears ebbed and the sounds from outside came into focus, there was a fight going on just outside her containment and she could feel the pulses from the Force. A charge that prompted the Hapan to pull herself together. Ignoring the stench now rising from the bottom of the pod, she stretched and tried her best to gain some strength back into her body, even though she couldn't see the Force would be her eyes for now. Taking in a deep breath, Ondraeya delved deeply into the universe, gathering what was available into her starving body.

"Think this one's alive," the muted voice stated, it's helmet now trying to see through the frosted window. Backing, the trooper raised his rifle.

Feeling the danger, the Force now flowing through it's supplicant was drawn up into her arms, then down to her hands as she raised them, palms toward the trooper and door between. Drawing in all that she could muster, the explosion of energy blew the door upward, just enough to catch the trooper in the arms and chin, knocking him to his back. Hitting the floor with a muted exhalation of pain, violet eyes glanced right and left. Even though her vision was clouded, the Force picked out auras and discerned between Force users and those who weren't. The brighter signatures would be ignored for now as she then began focusing on the rest. Drawing the rifle up to her hands, she aimed at a trooper to the far left, taking aim at one of the Force users, then fired. Hitting him in the chest, Ondraeya also began feeling the drain on her body and mind as the sudden exertion was taking more out of her than she was ready for, but survival had kicked in also. Falling out of the pod, she rolled across the floor to the feet of the first target of her rage, then raised the rifle once more toward another attacker now moving toward her, weapon up. The Force revealing his anger and surprise, she fired twice and hit him square in the torso. Falling back from her, she collapsed on the floor, dropping the rifle as she now had to take a break.

[Prisoner Zero]

He woke without knowing, and crumpled against the glass. His first breath, a newborn gasp that trickled over parched lips like ice water, it sounded like someone else, so far away. The walls of his hellish tomb screeched and wailed as he flailed about inside of it, willing to life, one by one, each of his stiff and leaden limbs. Until, at last, with a serpent’s hiss, his prison opened and spilled him out into the world, cold and wet.

Light scorched his eyes like red-hot steel. He moved, squelching and slithering away from the pod, as fast as he could before the dull swelling ache in his legs met the sharp blinding pain in his head, and blossomed in terrible union. Grunting, panting, he dared another peek, this time a sliver of coldest blue light. A night sky, perhaps. Onward, he pushed. His skin burned from the cold.

He opened his eyes again. The blue light took shape, and wrapped itself around the pale shadow of another frozen wretch. It took the last of his strength to right himself against the unopened pod, and there he sat, waiting for feeling to bleed back into his legs. A glance left and right, at the ranks of eerily silent cryostasis chambers, told him everything he needed to know: he was still far from safe.

Opposite, his prison, his frozen tomb, it was weathered with age and battle, with blackened metal, and scars that ran in great trenches down the glass. There was a small computer panel on one side, but its screen was cracked and dark. The only other feature of note was the large lettering written in red paint across the glass.

Fighting against the ache of unused muscles and the weight of his soaking clothes, he stood and approached his empty pod. His hand reached out, and removed the thick coat of condensation so the words became clear: Prisoner 0.

[Y'roth Helghast]

===== 22:53 =====
AT THE COMM ARRAY

Sergeant Jhor sighed as the Mandolorian's blade slipped through his chest. The cold seemed to seep through the wound. The numbness was overcoming him much quicker than he anticipated.

Corporal Ghandiem cursed, breathing deeply as he watched Jhor get cut down. He leveled the heavy blaster rifle against his shoulder, harnessing that righteous fury any soldier has when their comrade is taken from them in the heat of battle. First the flying one, then the one with the sword.

The other two were in a fierce fire fight with the droid. Trying to flank from two sides. They had yet to notice their sergeant was down, their focus set sincerely against the monstrous droid as it thrashed about, firing volley after volley at either of them.

===== 22:51 =====
SUB LEVEL 8

"Pull back. Pull back!"

Captain Aveedes tried for the third time to get the men to make some distance. That adept was in the thick of it. He had lost too many too quickly to her lightsaber. And he had men reporting all over of awakening prisoners. With these losses, and those prisoners, specifically on this floor, they would be quickly outmatched. He grabbed the shoulder of one of the sergeants, getting his attention.

"Grenades."

===== 22:51 =====
SUB LEVEL 7

Supervisor Llawl staggered as the stun blast hit her full on.

Peace is a lie...

She snarled, advancing on the Mandolorian that had deflected her lightsaber with his arm. They weren't supposed to be able to do that. Her other arm, hoisting the blaster, firing in the direction of the other warrior without even looking. She brought her red saber down with the strength of her prosthetic arm behind it.

There is only passion.

===== 22:49 =====
SUB LEVEL 8

The trooper had heard the crash of glass only a moment before. Something had broken out of one of the pods. The trooper was positioned closer to the front, guarding the turbolift in case the warriors came from that way. Then there had been another crash. Another pod. He had never liked sub level 8. He swore he heard whispers when he came down here. He rounded an empty, broken pod. Across the way, the trooper felt like he had stumbled across a scene, like finding a feral predator crouched over its prey. There was a red glow cast over the body on the ground. The man standing there, dripping wet from recently awakening was shuddering with each breath. The man's heel was on the throat of the body beneath him.

The trooper moved into the open, rifle raised and sighted on the back of the man. No warning needed, the trooper's finger slipped over the trigger. He would have pulled the trigger but another figure stepped out from the side of the trooper's vision. His blaster was out of his hand and large hands were around his throat. A swift jerking motion set the world sideways and the trooper lived no more.

A third figure stepped out of the shadows, holding his own blaster and with a belt of grenades over his shoulder.

"Lord Inquisitor Helghast."

The first one, the one standing over the body, stepped forward violently, crushing the neck of the woman beneath his bare heel. Y'roth Helghast turned to face Agents Y'lor Jerrard and Bren'lar Scothis, both imprisoned with Helghast an undetermined time ago. The how, why, and other details of that remained unclear. What was clear now was simple. His eyes, one glowing red, regarded them.

"Agents... They kept us prisoner with terrorists, traitors, monsters. And we are..."

Helghast stepped over the dead storm trooper.

"We are loyal to the Empire."

A man lay collapsed in a tube, lifting his hand weakly, pleading to the three of them on the outside. Helghast's right arm shattered through the glass, shearing strips of artificial skin from his arm. The man's face was palmed by his right hand. Weak hands slid around his wrist in futile effort to stop what came next. Another second and the man's head was bashed against the interior of the pod, fracturing the glass further. The situation and its appropriate solution was simple enough.

"Kill everyone."

"Veritas Vincit. Lord Inquisitor."

[Lilaena De'Ville]

===== 22:48 =====

SUB LEVEL 8
De'Ville was the eye of the storm as she cut her way through another squad of stormtroopers, her Vapaad style breathlessly kinetic as she moved without pause, erratic, but with intense purpose. A helmet rolled to the ground, bouncing against a pod as it opened, the occupant falling out. She blocked blaster bolts to protect the defrosted prisoner, turning one bolt around and sending it sizzling into the chestplate of a trooper.

Reaching out with the Force she picked up the headless body of another and hurled it into a pair of stormtroopers, sending them flying backward to crash against other cryopods.

"Try to look friendly!" she called through the comm to Jeng, who had climbed onto a defunct pod and was taking potshots at stormtroopers with his blaster rifle.

He cursed in Mandoa. "Some of these pod people are already fighting back." He landed another headshot on a trooper, keeping one of the prisoners from getting shot. "Wait..."

De'Ville did not wait, racing to the next trooper and removing his arm as she spun around and sliced deep into his squadmate's plasteel chestplate with the continuation. A grenade was lobbed at her, and she snatched at it with the Force, pinning it to the ceiling above another group of stormtroopers. Duracrete fell heavily after it exploded.

Jeng's voice continued in her helmet. "I see some of the prisoners. They... they are killing others in their pods."

"Where," she asked, and he told her. De'Ville scowled, and began running toward their position. Perhaps they could be reasoned with, as their rescue was at hand.

COMM ARRAY
Laara spat blood into the snow, wiping her vibroblade against the bodyglove of the dead stormtrooper who'd wielded the heavy rifle. Kotir was spitting laser cannon fire, keeping the other troopers distracted for the time being. She felt warm, for the first time since they'd landed on this frozen planet, and was content to sit up against the rocks the stormtrooper had been hiding behind, leaning on his body. She took his helmet off, looking at the face of her enemy. He looked surprised.

Aang was creeping around the distracted stormtroopers and grabbed the one they had been helping up the mountain with his big pack. With a heave the Mando'ade tossed the man down the path the way they'd come and held his sword at the ready when the others realized he was there.

===== 22:47 =====

SUB LEVEL 7
Obed had dumped nearly his entire power cell into stun shots, after the woman had taken his arm off and sent the Mandalorian iron gauntlet spinning across the room. She had stumbled behind a cyrostasis pod, and Choruk had tossed him a fresh power cell. "I do not think she is out," he said, checking Obed's stump while the other made sure the jetii remained where she was.

"Go," said Obed, clasping Choruk's forearm with his remaining hand. "Activate the pods. I will make sure she stays here."

Choruk shook his head. "We are sealed in here for now - too many enemies outside this room." After a moment he moved to the computer terminal on the woman's desk. "I have an idea."

Obed pulled himself to his feet, walking closer to the dark corner where the jetii had fallen behind the pod, and Choruk plugged his suit into the terminal. "I can open them from here," he said with satisfaction, "with the right command code." He started a program running, one Manda'lor had written herself, to slice into the mainframe.

===== 22:45 =====

SUB LEVEL 6
Granoi heaved the last of her improvised oil incendiary devices over their barricade, and hit Tiktik on her helmet where she lay next to her, checking her power cells with their backs to the shelving unit. The two warriors did not need to talk to know what the other was thinking, and as the ssssssssh of fire suppression systems flared on and then died away, they prepared to leap over the barrier and take on the gathered stormtroopers. They would either cut through the lines, or take them down with them.

A thunderous roar rattled the walls, and Tiktik said something over the comm that Granoi couldn't hear. She edged her head up sideways, looking backward over the barricade, and thumped Tiktik again. "Our vod have arrived." She climbed over the shelving unit and out of the kitchens, where the stormtroopers who had kept them bottled up were scattered across the tiled flooring of the cafeteria. Jariler raised it's shaggy head, and Hel thumped her chestplate with her fist as Tiktik stood up, warily.

"We have bought some time, but there are more on this level," said Hel from her perch atop the basilisk. "Ciryc is starting the defrosting sequence, we must defend those we can in the main chamber."

[Sejah Haversh]

SUB LEVEL 8
To the best of his knowledge, Sejah Haversh had never owned a waterbed, not had he ever slept on one. So it was with a great deal of confusion that his first senses upon emerging from his slumber were those of being wet. Not just wet, soaked.

Some races might enjoy such sleeping conditions, while others could find them almost necessary, but to a Nehantite who grew up in his nation's desert capitol, and who even avoided swimming pools, the sensation of frigid, icy water soaking him through his clothes and brown fur all the way to the skin was highly unpleasant, to put it mildly. By the time his mind could comprehend more than the twin factors of being cold and wet, Sejah's ears perked at the sound of blaster fire outside of his... sleeping pod? Prison? Spa chamber? Whatever it might be that he was in, blaster fire directly outside was far from a good thing.

Trembling, shivering paws reached up to the glass, and in doing so Sejah found himself feeling uncharacteristically weak, as if instead of gaining energy in slumber it had been drained from his body instead. Weak or not, the sound of blaster fire and explosions drove him on, accessing his deepest reserves of energy in order to stand, brown Jedi robes both clinging to his body and weighing him down simultaneously, and he pressed against the glass. Nothing. No movement. The shiver ran from his arms through his entire body, a violent shudder consuming him which nearly took him to his knees. The Force was a whirlwind around him, unstable and unpredictable, allowing him no sense of what was truly going on.

"Garfife, grant me your strength," he whispered upon frosty breath. Paws firmly placed against the glass, Sejah pushed with everything he could muster, and at the moment he felt as if he had no more give, the hiss and snap of seals and gaskets sounded, balancing the air pressure both inside and out of the pod before the glass swung open and the Nehantite tumbled to the floor beyond. Scrambling to his paws and knees, he looked up only to see a familiar set of white armor appear down the walkway from his pod, bringing a smile to his thoroughly confused face.

He had apparently been captured and the Republic had sent clone troopers to rescue him.

"Oh, Garfie, am I glad to see you!" he called out in his attempt to bring himself to a stand.

[Layla Cimmerian]

Hiss


The pod cracked a hair, just enough for the seal to break and the frigid air to plume outwards. It intermixed with an artificially warmed chamber, creating an at first jet of visible air. The pressure subsided into a gentle plume that began to settle then downward as the warmer heavier air rose above the thinner cooler mixture that escaped the pod. The core temperature within rose rapidly with the containment breach, but the door remained down, waiting for an outside force to bid it open further.


Thump


Her heart rate increased slowly from the near death crawl it had been suspended in before. Before she even opened her eyes, she could feel it in her breast, in her neck, her temples and behind her eyes. Her limbs tingled with the resistance of restricted circulation, her body shuddering in it’s recline within the chamber as her nervous system fought to wake itself. Her breathing spiked with her heart rate and her mind willed her limbs to move, starting with the simple desire to open and close her hands.


One simple motion translated across all her body, which awoke to catch up with the desires of the mind, albeit she felt stiff with every movement. Her right hand reached up to push against the metal door, which offered no resistance to the pressure she applied. Her body careened forward out of the tube rather suddenly as her mind was stolen from the action.


Two black clad figures walked with a matched stride down the row of cryo pods, so perfectly in unison one would swear they were controlled by one mind. Behind them a pair of storm troopers pushed a repulsor powered stretcher, which hovered three feet above the ground with a constant thrum. The ebony figure on the left prepared the cryo chamber, inputting the necessary body height and weight details to ensure she would survive in her cryo sleep. The other moved over her, lifting one eyelid open. Her pupil remained dilated, in spite of the harsh artificial light that shone down directly over it. “Sweet dreams, Inquisitor Neferis.” He whispered in a deep modulated baritone voice.


Her mind reeled back to the present, both hands pressed to the grated floor beneath her. Soaked hair hung down on either side of her face, dripping through the metal slats that her fingers curled into. She hadn’t been prepared for that uncontrolled trip down memory lane through her psychometry, moments she shouldn’t have ever known above because of her lack of consciousness.


Layla’s right knee dragged forward first, pulling the balls of her foot beneath her. She pressed down with her hands and arched her back in a feline manner while her other foot dug into the grating beneath her. Both knees bent inward as she unstably straightened her form to stand, then staggered a foot backwards as a sensation of vertigo swept over her and briefly blackened her visage. A final breath was drawn in, forcing composure. She turned back to her cryo pod, pulling the door closed and resting her palms against the surface. She knew what she needed to regain her strength.


Layla’s form was slipped off the stretcher, stripped of all rank and insignia and left only to black compression shorts and a tank top of the same material that bared her midriff. The storm troopers that guided her in unceremoniously dropped her back into the recline of the pod. Inquisitor Varesh, the lithe female manning the control panel stepped in front of the pod, sweeping her hand across the glass aperture. “I wonder if she will be coherent. I hope so.” She spoke in a lilting tone, staring through at the tattooed face of the former Kiffar Inquisitor.


Anger boiled her blood, warming her deeper than any artificial heat source could. The pressure in the air surrounding her intensified, both hands pressing more heavily into her cryo chamber. She cried out, a cry that crew in pitch and intensity. The glass of her cryo pod exploded inward and away from her, and the glass of those surrounding her exploded outward. Her fury drew a pair of Stormtroopers down her row of cryo chambers, leveling their blasters her direction.


“Don’t move.”


She turned a burning stare their direction, her tawny eyes laced with an even deeper shade of gold. A body stirred and groaned within one of the nearest cryo chambers to the Stormtroopers, causing them to turn distractedly and aim at it. In that time, the shards of glass lining the walkway lifted and gathered together in the air. They swirled a moment before their velocity increased and they assailed the two Troopers. Cries and blaster bolts were the last contributions they would make to the galaxy.

[Tank]

Fifteen years ago

Good Soldiers Follow Orders

The aberrant thought had thumped inside Tank's head, out of kilter with himself the way one might feel their heart flutter by the changing tune of the blood in their own ears. He'd learned to live with this monster. He knew when to draw the slack out of the chain. When to slam the door shut. The thing is, as vigilant as Tank was, the monster was just as patient. Even on good days, he could hear it in the unspoken gaps between conversations. He could see it like a shadow in the corner of his eye. It couldn't be destroyed conventionally. It couldn't be besieged. It wouldn't weaken from lack of food, water, or sensory input.

The monster did not go away. For the rest of his artifically-shortened life, Tank realized that the only thing that kept him from being a murderer was to maintain vigil. Always at his post, standing on the watchtower of his mind.

"CT-5542, can you hear me?"

The sedatives were wearing off. The moment Tank had a fleeting notion of situational awareness, he lunged. The snap of stun cuffs against his wrists served to fully banish the fog of drugs from his system, and to confirm that he was no less a prisoner now than he'd been since the Imperial ambush on Oord Trasi. With a pained groan, Tank relented, laying back fully against the gurney he was chained to. The blur in his vision reduced, coalescing on the grim face of an Utapauan man.

"I can hear you...Inquisitor."

The monster stirred in it's cage, it's blood focus sharpening Tank's eyes on his enemy. Clone Protocol 66. To protect the Republic, the Jedi insurrection must be stopped at all cost. Lethal force authorized.

The Inquisitor could see the change in CT-5542's expression, the smallest of bemused smiles crossing his dour face.

"Good."

He could feel the clone's anger. The technology responsible for the clones' proliferation in the Grand Army of the Republic hadn't denied them the capability of that feeling. It certainly felt real enough through the force.

"You will be pleased to know that your scheduled termination has been postponed indefinitely. The ISB has expressed some interest in seeing what makes you tick, or rather what made you *not* tick."

The Inquisitor's words might as well have been in Geonosian. Tank stared unblinking into the Utapauan's eyes. A man who had once been a Jedi. If ever the monster in his mind was right about anything, it was right about him. General Windu and Commander s'Ilancy were left to die like dogs, and no one would ever convince Tank they had ever betrayed the Republic.

But some Jedi most certainly did.

"You want to kill me, don't you?"

The Inquisitor's words finally achieved recognition. Tank replied in a gravelly tone, "Good soldiers follow orders, don't they?"

"They certainly do, CT-5542. Perhaps there is hope for you yet."

Tank's hands balled into fists as he again tested the limits of his stun cuffs. He beat his head against the back of the gurney, rattling the entire apparatus until he screamed through clenched teeth. The Inquisitor's little smile grew a measure.

"Good, good. Focus on that feeling. With luck, we'll figure out exactly where you went wrong."

"I didn't go wrong! I didn't betray the Republic, you did! You, the rest of the Inquisitors...all of you!"

The raw skin at his wrists and ankles was beginning to open again, but Tank couldn't have cared less. He couldn't care that he had no tactical options here. He couldn't care whether he lived or died, but he did care about his duty. He'd abandoned the grotesque horror known as the Galactic Empire before the bodies of murdered Jedi had grown cold, but he'd never turned his back on the oaths he'd taken to the Republic it had usurped.

"I gave an oath to defend against enemies outside and within. That oath is stronger than conditioning, stronger than some brain chip, stronger than someone expecting to pull a string and see if I'll dance. I'm a clone, not some droid. Me and my brothers? We gave that oath because in war, things go wrong. They break, fall apart, go to shit. None of that rates higher than a man's spirit. You conned a lot of good men into dancing to your little song, Inquisitor..."

Tank punctuated his vitriol by spitting in the Inquisitor's face. For his part, the Utapauan simply retreated a half step and calmly cleaned the expectorate.

"...you won't get me."

The Inquisitor sighed silently, glancing to his right. It was only then that Tank saw the object at his periphery. He knew well enough what it was.

A cryo freeze capsule.

"We'll see about that, CT-5542. Whatever you think of the Empire, you'll find that we are patient about getting what we want."

The restraints released at once, and Tank leapt from the gurney, but not before being man-handled by four stormtroopers. He struggled, screamed, and gave every ounce of resistance he could offer before being unceremoniously deposited into the coffin-like tube. The door slammed over him before he could kick it away, a hiss of a hermetic seal tickling his ears like a laughing devil.

On the outside, the Inquisitor watched as CT-5542 pounded with both fists against the viewport. The impacts registered no sound, nor did the clone's screamed protests, which were also swallowed whole by the chamber.

"Begin the freezing process."

A cold unlike anything Tank had ever experienced suddenly penetrated him throughout. It sucked the breath out of his lungs, which turned to a sheet of latticed frost against the window pane. The thump of his heart in his ears grew lethargic as a dull pain ran up his spine.

"Good...soldiers....follow..."

[Tank]

===== 22:42 =====

SUB LEVEL 7

"...orders."

Tank blinked, feeling the alien sensation of frost dislodging from his moving eyelids. Then came the pain.

"Agh."

Deep. Dull. It ran up and down his back, the ache eventually coursing down into his feet. He'd forgotten how much the cold hurt. It was a perpetual history lesson. He'd been lucky to survive his LAAT getting shot down over Ryloth. Luckier still that the chunks of shrapnel that lodged dangerously close to his spine didn't lodge a little closer and paralyze him. They were too close to the spinal cord to allow safe surgical removal, but the battalion sawbones told him that they wouldn't do him any more harm where they were than they already had.

Doc didn't happen to mention anything about the cold though. He found out about that little side effect on deployment to Mygeeto. The cold ran right through him and angered every connected nerve ending up and down. He needed two syrettes of painkiller a day to get back to fighting shape. A small miracle he never became an addict to the stuff.

But as the thaw began to subside, Tank shuddered as the feeling hit him in full force once more. The door of his pod peeled open with a whine of servos. It scarcely finished parting before Tank fell to his hands and knees, vomiting up the scant watery content of his empty stomach.

"Get it together, soldier. Hold the line."

Awareness quickly returned, and Tank rolled up to his feet. His eyes pivoted left and right, searching for any sign of the Inquisitor and his ISB stooges. A piercing din of an unseen blaster bolt pocking against durasteel immediately registered, and the clone trooper responded as he was trained to do - diving and rolling behind the nearest adjacent cover to allow for time to assess the tactical situation. Tank ground his teeth as the last vestiges of his cold-sensitive pain gave a final excruciating rebuke. Only then did he notice that the cover he'd chosen to occupy was another cryo tube.

He looked left. More tubes.

He looked right. Still more.

More in front of him. More behind. As his eyes adjusted to the light, Tank took stock of just how many of them there were.

"What the hell?"

[Sherobah Angau]

===== 22:53 =====
SUB LEVEL 8

A flurry of blaster bolts sizzled by, too close for comfort. On unsteady legs, she recoiled into the shadow of the cryopod, the bulk of metal between her and the source of the salvo. All around, shouts and cries echoed through the hall. Fear, anger, pain... Powerful primal emotions, resonating in the Force. A tattoo of bright green blaster-fire punched into the 'pod opposite her own. The occupant was awake, at first thumping fists against the transparisteel and then, his knuckles bruised, slapping his palms in a desperate cry for help. The mechanism that should have opened his 'pod was damaged, fitful sparks spraying from its innards.

His wide eyes met Sherobah's as she crouched out of view of the gun-fight and he yelled, his words swallowed by the riot of sound around them. She read his lips. Please, he was saying. Over and over again. Please. Emotion roiled on his face like an ocean mid-storm, anguish washing into fury and back again. Hating her then needing her, then hating her because he needed her and she was just watching him suffer. Feeling him suffer.

For a moment, the blaster-fire was distant, the focus of the fight moving on to another cluster of 'pods. She could hear snatches of sound from the trapped man now.

“For Palpatine's sake, please! Help me! You've got to-” he went on and on, but she wasn't listening anymore.

For Palpatine's sake, she would do nothing.

Stretching into the Force for the first time in years, Sherobah cast her mind out into the chaos. There had to be a path out of … wherever she was. The spoked wheel of the Galactic Empire decorating the outer shells of the 'pods was the only thing she recognised, the only thing that made sense. Whatever conflict was at play, the battle-lines were too muddy to know which side to join. Who had released her? More importantly, who had imprisoned her? Questions that would be answered, in time.

“You bitch! You heartless bitch! Don't leave me! PLEASE!”

The words and endless drum of fists beating chased Sherobah as she darted down the corridor formed by two rows of crypods, letting the Force guide her steps.

[Prisoner Zero]

===== 22:52 =====

SUB LEVEL 8

With every step, his boots squelched with the same thick vulgarity as if he were climbing a mountain of bantha shit. It made for a rather conspicuous approach, or, at least, would have were it not for the encroaching chorus of blaster fire. Some barked, throaty and low, like the barritone Monks of the Forgotten Verse, while others wailed into the dark like the burning witches of Blue Mountain; children's tales, both of them, but so vivid in his mind he could almost hear them singing and screaming over the battle. And, towards the battle, he walked. In his footsteps, there was no haste, nor was there the tenuous pace of the cautious man; he was simply curious, and knew at once that it was no way for a man to behave when wading into violence. Strange and unnatural. Perhaps he was a soldier.

On his way, he happened upon some dead ones, both sprawled pale and glistening upon the ground, like a couple of bloated fish that had been long washed ashore. They reached out, in their lifelessness, as if to embrace each other in death. That could have been him, and he would've known no better. Fate had been kind, in its way. He was Prisoner Zero, he reminded himself, and with every passing chamber he felt the hammer fall onto the nails of the coffins of nameless ancestors. Whoever they were. There was solace in his ignorance.

Ahead, he saw a trail of freshly-wet footprints, shimmering into the gloom. It was intention to follow them, but he was stopped short by the sudden violent thrashings of a man trapped inside his pod. His voice bled through the cracked transparisteel, and all of his angry desperation with it. Prisoner Zero considered the man, and the sparks spitting from the top of his own malfunctioning prison. And, from his string of colourful curses, he plucked one irrepressible note:

"-the bitch... I'll kill her! I'll kill her!"

Fury had him in a fever, and while he was demented, and clearly dangerous, the source of his ire was elsewhere. That made him an asset. A blaster bolt had made a smoking mess of the computer console beside the chamber, but the manual release was still intact. So, while shots rang out, and brought with them cries, and the thudding of boots, Prisoner Zero wrenched the red lever, and the pod yawned open with a final shower of sparks. Sure enough, the prisoner, now unleashed, bounded out and advanced at speed into the fray. There was, after all, strength in numbers.